


For Whom the Bell Tolls

by Miss_Indecisiveless



Series: The Bell Tolls [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode: s11e17 Red Meat, Hospitals, Hurt, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Injured Dean Winchester, Injured Sam Winchester, Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 09:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16972188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Indecisiveless/pseuds/Miss_Indecisiveless
Summary: An alternate version of 11x17 “Red Meat”Where one Winchester isn’t coming back. One of them has to end up in the Empty and if Dean has anything to say about it, it won’t be Sam.





	For Whom the Bell Tolls

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what the hell this is anymore.... hehe... whoops? 
> 
> anyway, I was debating on making a part 2 to this, but I forgot half the plot. I am willing to go with it if this received well. If not... then this just might be my first and only fic I post. We'll see.
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcome!

_ “This can be like camping, it could be fun.”  _

    His hands shook as he felt along his brother’s throat for the pulse point. 

_ “We’ve been talking about taking a break.”  _

__ When he couldn’t find anything, Dean let his fingers float above Sam’s nose. 

_ “Yeah what part?” He had asked.  _

__ He pressed his ear to Sam’s chest. 

_ “The part where we freeze our nuts off in middle of the woods on a thin lead?”  _

__ No.  _ No _ . 

_ “Yeah, that part.” Sam had chuckled.  _

__ Dean couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking breathe. Corbin was saying something about  _ them  _ coming back. He wanted to wait, to rip them apart. Though, the couple’s begging laid the way for a change in plans. With a sigh, Dean slipped the Impala’s keys into his brother’s jacket pocket. 

    “I’ll come back for you, I promise.” With this Dean stood. Corbin and Michelle hurried out the door while the elder Winchester paused, taking in his brother one last time.  _ I’ll come back.  _

 

****

 

    He had to blink several times as the sun started to shine through the trees. Dean’s head was starting to pulse. A werewolf had thrown him into a wall earlier. He hadn’t really been paying attention to the possible signs of a concussion. At the time he had bigger things to worry about, both literally and figuratively. Knowing the drum wouldn’t settle down anytime soon, Dean pushed on. 

    The couple behind him spoke in a tense hush. By the time he spotted the road he was panting. It wasn’t the best sign, but he still needed to go back for Sam. He promised he would. One car drove past without a care. The driver probably didn’t even notice. When Dean spotted the next one, he knew they were in the clear. The deputy pulled off to quickly come to a stop as Dean ushered Michelle and Corbin to the vehicle. 

    “What the hell happened to you guys?” The deputy asked, rushing around the car. 

    Dean opened the back door. “She needs urgent medical assistance. Take care of them, I need to go back to find my brother.” 

    “No,” the deputy barked, jerking Dean back toward the car. “What needs to happen is for everyone to calm down and tell me what's going on.” 

    The sudden movement had set the world on a spiral, but Dean wasn’t about to mention that. “I don’t have time for this.” Something warm was starting to slide down the side of Dean’s face. He did what he did best: ignore it. In the far corner of his brain, Dean wondered how he was able to walk with the ground tipping as much as it was. 

    “C’mon buddy-” the deputy grabbed hold of Dean’s jacket collar this time. This sent the hunter to his knees. 

    The ground didn’t seem so bad now. Dean just needed to close his eyes for a second, then he’d be able to find Sammy…

 

****

 

    When he finally rose to the surface of consciousness again, there was a hand holding him down. 

    “Try not to move if you can help it.” A woman’s voice. He didn’t recognize it. “You have a couple broken ribs I haven’t tended to yet.” 

    Dean opened his eyes to confirm his suspicions. A hospital. He still had a job to do and he was stuck here. Suddenly his thoughts crashed as he was blinded with a penlight. 

    “And what’s looking to be a nasty concussion.” His eyes finally met with the woman who stared down at him. “That cut on your head should be fine. Now do us both a favor and get some rest.” 

    He waited a solid three minutes before he started to shift up. The pads of his fingers ran along his forehead to find the stitches and bandage. Brushing it off, Dean reached for his belonging set on the table next to him. Before he could do much more, Michelle stood in the doorway. The rattling of the IV stand had given her away. 

    She shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “Hi.” 

    Dean looked up, “hey.” 

    “Can I?” 

    “Sure,” Dean really didn’t want to waste any more time, but he’d humor her. 

    “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” 

    There was a hell lot more than that, Dean knew. 

     “And… I-I’m sorry.” Michelle paused. “Well, my mom use to say… I Didn’t believe her then. I- I think I do now.” Michelle’s eyes were doe-like as they held Dean where he sat. “She’d say that… death is not the end.” 

     And damn it if that didn’t put one of the worst of the best ideas in his head. Though, he wouldn’t even stand before his phone rang. The name on the caller ID was enough to steal Dean’s breath. He nearly dropped the damn thing in his rush to answer it. 

    “Sammy?” Michelle’s eyes stayed saucer-sized as Dean’s widened too. 

_ “Dean.”  _

__ The world was lifted from Dean’s shoulders at that moment. “Oh God, Sam. W-what happened?” 

_ “Dean. Dean where are you?”  _

__ Dean frantically glanced around his room. He found his chart sitting on the chair the doc had taken up not too long ago. “The urgent care on 54.” 

    Sam was only able to say a few more words before the static won. 

    “Sam? Sammy?” Before Dean could make heads or tails of most of the noises that came through the line, Sam gave up and the call ended. 

    “Is he- is he?” Michelle whispered. 

    “He’s alive,” Dean grunted as he stood. “I need to… I need to go-” 

    Dean didn’t understand what he needed anymore. Sam was alive, he had the keys to the Impala. Though, these facts were not present in the hunter’s mind at the moment. 

 

    What should have tipped Dean off on how things would go, was the fact he had to pass the deputy. 

    “Hold up, where do you think you’re going?” The bastard stood directly in Dean’s way. 

    “I need a car-” Dean muttered absentmindedly as he passed the smaller man. 

    “You aren’t going anywhere.” The deputy took hold of Dean’s jacket. 

    On pure instinct, Dean spun around, fist colliding with the deputy’s face. 

    One step was all he was allowed to take. In the very back of Dean’s mind, he knew it was about to get really shaky when he felt the tags latch onto his shoulders. The shock that flowed into his body numbed him. So much, that he didn’t even feel his head hit the tile. Michelle shrieked somewhere far off. 

 

****

 

    “Holy hell,” the deputy said as he pulled the prongs from Dean. The head wound had reopened, and the man wasn’t even breathing. Just as sudden as all movement had stopped it started again. Guttural noises started bouncing from the back of the downed man’s throat, violent tremors starting to rack his body. 

    Quickly the deputy turned Dean onto his side. He beckoned Michelle over to help hold the seizing man down. Green eyes had rolled into the back of his head, foam bubbling from the corners of his mouth. 

    The doctor rushed into the hall, having heard the scream. “What happened?” Her fingers immediately searching for a pulse. She took in the scene noticing the blood starting to drip on the floor. The next thing she saw was the discarded taser. “You idiot,” she growled, throwing a door open to grab what supplies she needed. “We need to run a bag of saline.” 

    Michelle pulled out her own IV, taking the bag down and handing it to the doctor. 

    “Roll him onto his side,” the deputy held Dean’s shoulders as the doc searched for a vein. 

 

    Dean stepped back, watching as the group worked to stop the seizure. Suddenly it all paused. Dean knew  _ exactly  _ what this meant. Had this been five minutes ago, he would have wanted this. Now, it was something he wanted to desperately avoid. 

    “What’s with the freeze frame?” 

    Billy smirked, “just savoring this.” Her mouth curved with a greater mirth. A wicked grin. “Two Winchesters teetering along the edge in one day.” She shook her head. 

    “What do you mean?” Dean spun to face her. “Sam’s  _ alive _ . He’s not dead. Neither am I.” 

    “Yet.” Billy tisked. “When the big W bites it, I get a call. Well Deano, I got one. My quota can only be filled by one of you today.” 

    Dean wished she was lying, but he didn’t know how bad Sam’s wound was. Hell, Sam still had to make the journey  _ here _ . 

    “Then take me. Leave Sam and take me instead.” 

    The grin dropped. “Let’s face it Dean-” 

    “The Darkness is out there running loose. Because of that the world is gonna burn. If anyone can stop it it’s Sam.” 

    Billy stared at Dean with a nasty indifference. “No.” 

    “No?” 

    “ _ No _ . Even if Sam could win, the answer is no. It will  _ always  _ be no. Let’s face it, Dean,” she paused to be sure of no further interruption. “You can say that’s your reason all you’d like. We both know you’re saving Sam for yourself. You can’t survive without him.” Billy shook her head. 

    “I’m asking you, I’m  _ begging  _ you, just take me instead.” 

     “I’m not here to bargain with you, Dean. No more extra lives, no more do-overs. Neither of you is dead, but will be, soon enough.” She snapped her fingers, allowing time to resume. 

_ “Pulse is fading.”  _

    This was just perfect, he was gonna die choking on his own spit. 

    “I’m here to reap a Winchester. It’s time for one of you, and the empty is waiting.” 

_ The doc took hold of a bottle of anticonvulsants, pulling it into a syringe before giving the dose to Dean.  _

 

****

 

    He was suddenly rammed back into the freight train of reality. The doc muttered something, the deputy was mumbling reassurances. All Dean felt was the need to throw up. 

    Finally, someone understood this after a few moments of needless choking. Dean was rolled back to his side as he heaved. Nothing but foam and bile decorated the floor beside the now drying blood. Something was pressed against his head. He jerked away from the pain as another wave of nausea rolled over him. There wasn’t far to go as he set his head on the cool tile. There was a pounding in the distance. 

    “What was that?” Deputy douche asked. 

    “You stay here, I’ll check it out.” Doc’s voice faded. 

    “ _ Stay here _ ,” Douche mocked. “ _ Great  _ idea.” 

    Dean wanted to slap him. He forced open his eyes, trying to pin what deputy douche needed to be hit the most. Then again all three of them could use it. 

     The deputy caught Dean’s eye. “Hey, you alright buddy?” There was another crash. So maybe it wasn’t just Dean. “I need to go see what that was.” 

    Ah, tase and ditch. For some reason, Dean was thinking a bad date was still better than this. He gingerly leveraged himself into a sitting position, searching the pockets of the jacket lying where his head was. 

    That happened to be the same moment the deputy’s body collapsed down the hall. Dean was thanking everything that by some miracle he still had the silver knife on him. He was a little shaky once he got to his feet, but the adrenaline soon fixed that problem. Dean was still far from steady as he pushed Corbin to the ground. 

    “Run!” Michelle flinched but didn’t hesitate. 

    While he still had the upper hand, Dean buried the knife into Corbin’s back. Right to the hilt so the blade would reach its target. Corbin howled as Michelle cried out. Dean wasn’t given any warning before a set of claws sunk into his chest. The ground vanished. All he knew was air in this painfully long second. There was another spark of pain and one following after. The next time Dean opened his eyes, his head was cradled in Michelle’s lap. 

    She was going off a mile a minute. 

    “Hey,” was all he managed to rasp. 

    “Hi,” she squeaked back. “I-I’ll go wake the doctor, she-she can-” 

    The more Michelle moved, the more the pain came back. Frankly, Dean preferred the cold numbness that had set over his limbs. 

    He clutched the sleeve to Michelle’s gown as if it was his lifeline. “No.  _ No _ .” 

    “Okay,” she pressed something to his chest, trembling. “Okay.” 

    Dean grimaced. “She can’t do anything.” 

    “N-no, she can help.” 

    “While I was out, I talked to… well, I wouldn’t call her a friend.” Dean pulled in a painful breath. “More like a scary, crazy death machine.” 

    “How do you talk to a scary,” Michelle sniffled, “crazy death machine?” 

    “I die.” Dean’s eyes had drifted close, so he had to force them back open. “There's more than just werewolves out there.” He was trying so hard to make every word sound clear that it was hard to take air in. 

    “S-stop talking.” 

    “Okay,” Dean wheezed. “What about you, how are you doing?” 

    Something wet fell onto his cheek. “That-that… Corbin wasn’t a killer.” 

    “I know,” 

    “He did it… he did it for me.” The tears kept rolling down her face. 

     Unconsciously Dean’s fingers stayed curled around her sleeve. “Someday… after a while, you… you can find n-normal.” 

    “After everything we survived together.” Michelle was holding back full on sobs now. “I watched the man I love die. There-there can’t be normal after that.” 

    The war-torn hallway was silent for a while. 

    “Dean?” 

    His grip on Michelle’s sleeve was slipping. “Still here,” he murmured. He watched a blurry world through half closed eyes. “S-Sammy, should be here… soon.” 

    “He’s on his way,” Michelle’s voice was laced with tears. “I know it.” 

    Dean offered a blood-stained smile. Of course Sammy was coming. He had no doubt his brother would either. 

    “W-when he g-gets here… t-tell him…” 

    “No, stop. Dean, stop talking. He’ll be here. Doc!” She screamed down the hall. The only response they were given was the echo of Michelle’s terror. 

    “T-tell him… what your mom…” Dean’s hand slipped from the ugly yellow cloth. Michelle pressed his jacket into his chest harder, pulling Dean’s shoulders onto her legs. 

    From down the hall came a slight clattering. “W-what happened?” 

    “Doc, hurry!” Michelle shouted. 

    “T-tell him…” 

    Rushed footsteps echoed toward them. They were followed by shocked curses. 

    “I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him, Dean. Just stay here.” 

    In the distance held the faint hum of the Impala’s engine. Dean could swear he could hear it from where he lay. The loud purr of her work-horse power, pushing faster to reunite her boys. She was a good car. Always had been. 

    “Christ,” the doctor breathed. 

    “Dean? Dean!” 

    Dean pulled in a ragged breath, sliding his hand over Michelle’s against his chest. His baby and baby brother were coming. Then he heard it, the rumble of his baby. She stood just beyond the glass of the front doors. Sammy didn’t even bother to park her. He pushed open those front doors all on his own. He was under his own power. Sammy was fine. He was alive. He’d stay alive. 

    “Dean, stay awake. Stay awake!” Michelle cried. 

    It was Sam’s voice now echoing in his head. “Dean?  _ Dean! _ ” 

    He couldn’t see anything anymore. 

    “ _ Dean! _ ”

 

Dean. De _ a _ n. D _ ea _ n. D _ ean _ .  _ Dean _ . 

Dean.  _ Dean!  _

 

****

 

    Sam sat alone in the entry room of the bunker. He hadn’t moved for a long time. His phone lay in front of him. After so long he had shut the ringer off. He still didn’t understand why he hadn’t shut the damn thing completely off. He’d only made one call, but undoubtedly Jody was passing the word around. 

_ “You shouldn’t have to do it alone,”  _

    She had convinced him to wait. The screen faced the ceiling as if he still expected Dean to call him back. To give him hell and tell him he knew he hadn’t been dead the entire time. The screen lit up the shadowed room. He declined the call before it could even buzz. By accident, he unlocked the phone and pulled up the picture he had taken a long time ago. The quality was poor, taken with one of his flip phones years ago, but he just couldn’t help keeping it. He had taken it in some crappy roadside bar right before he left for Stanford. Dean lining up a shot for a game of pool that later ended him with a black eye, but a pile of cash. 

    The pictures all laid out of the stable had been scattered when Sam grabbed for his phone. Grief and anger bubbled inside him so fast. His phone became airborne as he chucked it across the room. 

    “ _ Why _ ! Why him!” Sam demanded to the heavens. “I’ve prayed for  _ years _ . I was praying for you  _ then _ .” Sam fisted his own hair, pulling it to try and advert his pain to something else. He collapsed back into his chair like this. 

 

****

 

Dean stood next to his brother as he stepped away from the pyre. The newly born flames ate up the base and climbed to the wrapped body it held up. He placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Sam unconsciously placed a hand over Dean’s. Not a clue that the comfort was actually there. Jody and her girls stood back with silent tears running down their faces. A few other hunters had made it, here paying their final respects. Hell, even Crowley hid in the shadows somewhere. The Sheriff carefully made her way to Sam’s other side. 

    “I guess he’ll be able to bullshit with Bobby again,” she sniffled. 

    “No, he won’t” Sam kept up a hard face. 

    “Sam?” 

    “Billy the reaper. She promised that the next time one of us dies, she’ll throw us in the empty. A place where no soul can come back from.” 

    Jody’s silent cry only entered the world as a white puff of condensation in the cold night. 

    Dean squeezed his brother’s shoulder.  _ “You’ve got this Sammy.”  _

_     “Dean,”  _ Billy called. _ “Time’s up.”  _

_     “Yeah, yeah,”  _ Dean waved her off. He looked back at his brother. The light of the flames that was his funeral flickered on Sam’s face.  _ “Sorry, man.”  _

__ Almost as if Sam could hear him, the younger Winchester murmured, “after everything we survived together.” 

    Dean patted his brother’s shoulder and held on for a few more moments. His back faced his own hunter’s funeral that he knew had been a long time coming for him. He didn’t want to let Sammy go, but this had been  _ so  _ he didn’t have to.  _ “You be good, Sammy. Kick it in the ass.”  _

    He finally managed to walk away from his brother. After all the years he’d run to him, he now had to step away.  _ “You ready?”  _

_     “No.”  _ And in some twisted, messed up way, he kind of was at the same time. He stood beside his reaper as the world started to fade. For the very last time, he glanced over his shoulder at Sam. At the very same time, the two brothers muttered the same words. 

 

_ Death is not the end.  _

 

No, death certainly is not the end. 

  
  
  



End file.
